Ceremonial
by Eglentyne
Summary: When other Gods are fallen and put to scorn, I invoke you. My sighs rise, touch, and curl about the heart. Pitiful Love, Loveliest Pity, descend and bring me luck... for I am lonely and forlorn. Sebaciel BDSM oneshot. M for obvious reasons.


Warning: BDSM (particularly spanking, flogging, bondage). Sexual themes.

If you're looking for some hardcore smut, you won't find it. Not to say you should pass this up, for this fic has its own merit. Check out some of my other work if you're looking for some gritty erotica.

* * *

><p>Ciel Phantomhive had a peculiar code for when the stresses of Earldom were too vexing on his adolescent mind. "Sebastian, do you remember the rules?"<p>

Anyone else could hear such a mundane question and dismiss it as inconsequential. When Sebastian heard it, he knew there were only two fitting answers.

All manner of business littered the young lord's desk. The pair had nicked investigation files to research another case for Her Majesty. Financial reports had to be reviewed, for the end of the fiscal quarter was fast approaching. If this weren't enough to contend with, Elizabeth insisted Ciel set aside business to attend various social functions with her. It was rather fortunate that he had such a skilled butler to aid him when matters become too overwhelming.

Sebastian _could_ have responded to Ciel's question with, "Perhaps I need to be reminded one more time." The true meaning of such an answer would be, "I acknowledge your need. This is not the time."

Sebastian cleared away the coffee cup and carafe he had brought for the young master. While coffee was an atypical request, he had ordered it with the intent to focus on making some headway through his work that evening. It appeared to Sebastian that Ciel just looked exasperated, and perhaps a little jittery. There was no possible way he was going to be inclined to sleep, unless he had means to quell that inner turbulence.

On such an evening where Sebastian's sole concern was his master, he knew the _other_ response was the only appropriate one. "My Lord, they cut to the quick."

The first rule was Ciel always initiated the session.

Sebastian smirked as he watched Ciel push away from the desk in steely silence. The work littering the desk could wait. The dregs of cold coffee and the trolley could wait. Sebastian smelled the sweat on the boy's palms and reasoned that Ciel could not.

The butler held the door for his master who led the way to a peculiar den in the manor. To reach it, one must traverse the servant's hall and down the stone stairway to the wine cellar. Past the barrel casks in that vaulted cellar hid a locked alcove. Goodness knows what its purpose was prior to Ciel's need for it, but when Sebastian had discovered this secret cubicle, he reasoned its existence was meant for hiding skeletons.

It was customary for Sebastian to hold open a door to allow his charge to enter a room first. Instead of the gracious, "Right this way," or "After you," it was, "Get in."

The second rule was Sebastian was permitted any informality he saw fit.

As soon as Ciel stepped foot into the room, the door slammed behind him and he was pitched into darkness as thick as a tomb. The plumbic click of the lock engaging was the signal that the session had begun. Sebastian was somewhere in that cramped murk, even if footsteps could not be heard or no draft from his movement could be felt. Ciel took a deep breath and smelled spice, starch and soot.

Sconces around the periphery blazed to life and this sudden burst of vision had Ciel squinting at arms folded in front of a grey waist coat.

"Well, boy, you know what is expected of you. Do not dally."

The stage was set, and the first act of the play had begun. Ciel knew his role and character in this performance, but was never privy to the entire sequence of events that were to be enacted. In this private space he knew the conventions of everyday were barred from entering. All such decorum would be inverted with intent to reveal what Ciel kept hidden behind a noble status.

Sebastian was correct, in that the boy knew how the session was to begin. Ciel knew what to anticipate if he complied. Compliance led to reward and disobedience led to punishment. This unshakeable covenant dictated all operation in this space. It was for this very reason he folded his arms to mimic Sebastian's stance and spat the words, "Make me."

Even if this was such a response that had never been uttered in that room, Sebastian showed no indication of astonishment at such brazen defiance. Instead he brought his attention to his hands, making a show of inching off his gloves with grim deliberation.

"Very well. I will tell you once. Undress."

Ciel leaned forward with defiance. "And I will say it again. Make me."

Sebastian gave no mind to Ciel's blatant disregard for the established dynamic upon which they had agreed. This was the boy's will, to disobey and challenge, and therefore Sebastian was charged to respond as per their compact. After pocketing the gloves, he grabbed the insolent brat by the back of his hair, causing him to hiss. "You are not in a position to give orders." A naked hand gripped Ciel's rear under those tweed trousers, forcing him to squirm, but there were no means for him to twist away from that fist locked on his scalp. "Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson, of what happens when you act out of line."

If this was the reaction that Ciel intended to elicit, he did not show his excitement in achieving it. His roots stung as Sebastian forced him to a corner of the room where the straight-backed chair was waiting. While similar to a dining chair, this one sat lower and had no armrests, thus rendering it ill-equipped for the purpose of dining at a proper table. Like so many other things in this room, its function served nothing proper.

Sebastian sat, shoving the boy across his lap and he gasped from this forceful treatment. Ciel did not see the smirk on the demon's face. Sebastian knew what his charge craved, and while he believed he was to receive such conduct, the demon had planned otherwise.

Despite the chair sitting lower to the floor, it was designed to be high enough to where in this position Ciel could not quite rest his knees. Yet he did have the ability to plant his hands on the floor so he felt grounded in some capacity. Sebastian's thighs felt as stone, crushing against his middle as they tipped him forward. Ciel felt his face flushing as the blood ran to this head.

The hand on his scalp relented to trail down his neck, tugging at the collar, raking across the fabric over his back, and resting at the waistband. Ciel was in anticipation to feel unclasping and the cloth leave his backside exposed to the chill. That hand smoothed over his rump, down a thigh and back again, and he stifled a shudder to feel fingers trace over the very seat of his trousers. Any moment he would feel that bare hand on his bare skin—

WHAP. Ciel blinked in bewilderment as the hit warmed to a dull tingling, to be followed by another strike with enough force to jolt him forward. This was not what he had wanted at all. This was not like all those other times where he could feel the sting of Sebastian's hand, how such a sensation would crawl down his legs and make his knees shake. Ciel was receiving a proper spanking and he only had himself to blame for it. He attempted to lift himself from the man's lap, but he was forced back down by a crushing arm on his shoulders.

"I did not give you permission to rise."

"Sebas—" WHAP.

"How do you address me?"

Ciel remained silent as the spanking continued. While fabric dampened the potential sting of a hit, it did nothing to buffer the force, and Sebastian was applying a heavier hand than what was accustomed. His bottom began to ache, and he clenched his hands into fists against the floor, gritting his teeth. Another blow forced the air from him with a huff, another wrested a whimper, and try as he might the word surged forth when all he wanted was to bite it down.

"Sir."

Sebastian ceased his punishment and Ciel was able to yield to the prickling that lingered. The soreness was given time to swell and dull and he groaned from the relief. When Sebastian placed a soft palm to that rear Ciel hissed in a breath. He recognized that these clothes he chose not to take off were beginning to feel very restrictive, especially in that position. To feel a caress after such a forceful wallop shocked sensitive flesh. He didn't need to be exposed to feel the trickle through his gut, that tightening between his legs.

"Are you ready to behave?" Within this den, Sebastian held the position of authority. Of course, it was never at the expense of his charge, for the third rule was Ciel was responsible for only one decision, and that was where to draw the line.

Sebastian sensed the boy's accelerated heartbeat. Ciel was attempting to shift so Sebastian would not notice the firmness pressing into his lap. Of course, that demon could smell arousal and taste the pheromones in the air.

Ciel felt rather uncomfortable and decided being agreeable would be the best course of action, at least for a short time. "Yes sir."

"Then you have permission to sit on my lap." He rose from his kneeling position and Sebastian smiled to see the boy still flushed from the activity. Ciel took a tender seat, rear still smarting, and he jumped from arms folding about his chest. "What do you say, boy?"

"Thank you… sir."

"I like you best when you are amenable." He pressed Ciel against him, laying kisses on the back of his neck. Sebastian widened Ciel's legs and forced him further onto his lap. Willowy fingers slinked over a rumpled shirt, groping at the boy's chest. Another hand crept down his waist, over a shivering thigh to hard groin. Ciel gasped at such evocative treatment, how hands could be severe one moment and gentle the next but could contain such ferocity all the same.

Sebastian gripped the hard length under Ciel's trousers, relishing how he wriggled over his lap, how the boy's breath caught in his throat. Ciel reached behind him to paw at the man, to reciprocate in some way, but Sebastian pinched a nipple and whispered, "Do not touch."

The feeling of Sebastian's hand around his rigid organ was supressed by heavy cloth. He wanted the sensation of full pumping over his naked cock because if not for those infernal trousers he would feel those hands with heated acuity. "Sir, may I make a request?"

"You can request all night long, you filthy boy."

"I need these trousers off."

Sebastian bit at an ear and Ciel groaned. That conniving demon felt a glimmer of satisfaction, now that he had successfully made the brat want to be out of his clothes. It would be no fun if Ciel were allowed this convenience without any effort extended.

"You insisted keeping them on a few minutes ago." Sebastian pressed harder, sucking that earlobe. His stroking was relentless, and Ciel noted how Sebastian's breath felt so hot against his ear. "This is why you should just do as I say the first time. When you think you can make decisions you just end up making it harder for yourself." He rolled his palm over the tip tenting in Ciel's lap and the boy mewled.

He tried to unbutton himself and release the strain but Sebastian smacked those hands away. "I have not given you permission." He continued his fondling, lifting Ciel's leg to grasp under. The boy was trapped on Sebastian's lap and he felt if he didn't stop this soon he would climax and make a right mess of himself. He didn't want the embarrassment, or the discomfort.

"Se…. Sir. Please let me up," Ciel panted.

"Oh? Asking politely now? It's not an expectation of you to ask for things like a good gentleman." Sebastian's fingers stroked flesh hanging low under stiff prick and Ciel tensed, eyes screwed tight. He huffed, trying to convince himself that Sebastian's hands were not that skilled, his tone was not that alluring, his breath was not that intoxicating…

"Please, please sir, I want to undress." Ciel hated to hear such petty words pour from him. Once the fountain trickled, he realized he couldn't make it stop. "Please don't make me cum yet sir. I'll do what you say—hah…." Sebastian would bring him so close to the brink. "Shite… no please I beg you—"

"Listen to you, begging like some trollop." He pushed Ciel off him and rose from his seat. In a flash the shirt was ripped away, slacks pooled on the floor. Ciel trembled, for his arousal was suspended at such a high peak, the cold air a shock to tingling flesh. Sebastian's eyes gleamed with such aggression and wickedness. He moved to across the room where a cabinet stood with foreboding menace. Ciel knew what was in that cabinet, his breathing apprehensive. He had dug himself into a hole this time. "I will not allow you your relief just yet, not until I assess that you can indeed follow my instruction. Stand in front of the wall."

Ciel had been averting his gaze from that wall since he had entered the infernal den. A room technically has four walls, but in this space "the wall" was designated as the only one of any real import. A wall by its nature was meant to obstruct, to barricade, to close off, but the nature of this particular façade was quite the opposite.

Horizontal beams strutted across its stone surface, bolted to the wall and fashioned with large rings placed with the intent to fasten. One beam was situated at the level of his forehead, another chest level to where if he stretched his arms lengthwise he could just reach those rounds. By his ankles a larger plank jutted further. Rings were secured directly in the ceiling.

There was no sense in hiding his demonic capabilities in such a space. Sebastian pulled from the cabinet several lengths of rope, and before Ciel knew what was happening, his arms were already above his head, his feet forced to a wide stance. The rope had been tied to bind his arms, cuffed above the deltoid muscles of the shoulders, biceps aligned, and secured above and below the elbows and ending with a tie at the wrists. This length end was pulled to the ceiling, forcing shoulder blades to tighten and the boy's head to lean forward.

His legs, on the other hand, were bound separate, cuffed at the top and bottom of the thigh just above the knee, as well as below it to shackle around his calves. His ankles were secured to the beam below, just more than shoulder length apart. Ciel attempted to turn his head, but his arms jutting at an extreme posture limited this endeavour. He could twist at the waist but it was such a strain to do so, for his feet were planted and the rope cut into his thighs from the effort.

He pulled at the restraints on his arms and found it could hold him if he so wished to not place weight on his legs. Consequently, prolonged hanging would cause the muscles in his back to scream in pain. He could stand on his toes to relieve his arms of some strain, but contracting the muscles of his calves placed an aching pressure against the ropes.

While bound, his movement was not completely restricted. He was still given the chance to move, but each position available to him resulted in some different discomfort. It was an illusion of freedom of choice, for in the end, Ciel realized that he would be forced into one state, and that was to squirm between various displeasures.

To compound this dilemma, Sebastian had cuffed the rope in such a way to where knots placed pressure on the inner thighs, and he felt the throbbing in his groin. A twitch in his legs would shoot to that aching erection, suspending him between erotic stimulation and frustrating torment.

Sebastian stood in amusement to watch Ciel challenge the restraints. He could not slip out of rope tied to cling to essential points on the body, wound with intention to restrict blood flow as well as movement. Ciel showed signs of panic at this abrupt change. He had not been eased into this position, not given time to adjust. Sebastian placed reassuring hands on the boy's sides, ribs jutting under his fingers.

"Boy… what would you care to have for dessert?"

He turned his head what little he could to see Sebastian without his jacket and waistcoat, shirtsleeves rolled above the elbow. For all the amusement in his question, Ciel saw his brow knit with the slightest bit of concern. He had not been placed in this position because of punishment. He was not brought into this room against his will. Ultimately he determined whether it should stop.

It was the fact that he would pause to ask that compelled Ciel to utter, "Treacle." This was such a signal for Sebastian to continue, that no boundary had been crossed.

Sebastian moved his hands to shivering thighs and whispered in the boy's ear, "Well then… I look forward to hearing your lovely cries."

He heard Sebastian wheel the trolley in close proximity, but it was out of his line of sight. He knew that any manner of implements were arranged on it for his use and Ciel would not know what they were until Sebastian wielded them against him.

"Do you appreciate this position, the means in which I bound you?" Ciel felt soft leather graze over a shoulder, strands tickling.

"I get the impression you want me to say 'yes,' sir."

"Are you inclined to say otherwise?"

"Will you beat me harder if I do?"

THWACK. The once soft leather tendrils bore down with a heavy thud over his shoulders. "I think the greedy brat wants harsh treatment." Sebastian flogged over the shoulders again and Ciel gasped from the impact. A few soft blows curled under an arm, causing Ciel to tense from one side to the next. Sebastian continued in this pattern, delivering soft petting before a harsh swing, relishing the sound of leather on skin, followed by a gasp. The boy tensed, relaxed, only to tense again from another blow.

After a time Ciel grew accustomed to that flogger's heavy strikes, for they had little sting. Ciel wanted it to sting and his breathing calmed. Sebastian ceased his rhythmic pace to pick another instrument. "Do not get too comfortable." Ciel felt the slight sting of the riding crop on his thigh and rose from his lax position. "Much better." Sebastian gave a few flicks against his rear, producing an acute redness, and followed it with a strong thud of the flogger. In this erratic fashion, Ciel could not know how many strikes of the riding crop would come before or after the flogger.

He began to wriggle and moan from this treatment. Sweat collected on his forehead, the back of his neck. Sebastian rubbed the red rear with such fondness. Ciel gasped, felt the tightening in his groin. Sebastian patted exposed flesh between legs with the riding crop. Stinging blows splayed over red cheeks and Ciel looked down to see himself erect and aching. Another blow was given up, catching his thigh and he cried from the sensation. He pulled at the restraints on his wrists, trying to leverage himself. Sebastian took the soft flogger back in his hand, wagging it between Ciel's legs. The sensation was startling, Ciel aroused by the contact and frustrated by its gentle bite. Another whip of the riding crop had him recalling why he loathed the leather crop so much.

The fluctuation of sensation stirred Ciel to a frustrating edge. The flogger, with its many soft thick tails provided no bite with its hefty impact. On the contrasting end, the crop carried a crisp pain in its delivery, but no weight. Its hard leather flicked with a quick sting that served to taunt but provided no lasting burn on the surface. He desired a thrashing that would deliver both extremes in equal measure.

"Why do you continue to tease me, sir?"

"Because it pleases me. Would you rather me finish you off quickly?" Ciel heard the clatter of those whips on the trolley, and was met with Sebastian's hand gripped around aching prick. The boy moaned and turned away from the demon nuzzling against his jaw. "I could, you know. I could simply jerk you off like this and be done with it, but honestly, you fool, if you needed something as simple as this I would have done it for you upstairs." Ciel quivered from the tightening that threatened to snap within him. "No, you started this. You wanted to be down here for a reason. You better tell me what you want, you insufferable brat."

His butler was right. It was not enough to be distracted with pleasure, because it left him feeling like some additional need within him was not sated. He hated the thought of it, that some days he didn't feel strong enough to handle all that life forced on his shoulders, and he relied on Sebastian to show him that he had the strength to endure something. It was frustrating, enraging, and Ciel gritted his teeth and spat, "God damnit, you insufferable devil! Get off my cock and fucking hit me!"

WHIP.

Sebastian chose a flogger with short tails that nipped at pinked flesh. This stiff leather did not caress at the skin upon impact. When applied with the same force as the soft flogger, it had the capability to deliver more stings with darting pace. "I was wondering if you were ever going to relent. And how dare you speak to me with such disrespect."

Red bloomed over aching shoulders and Ciel surrendered a strangled cry. "Yes… make it hurt…"

"What did I say about making demands?"

"Fuck you—ah! I'll do it anyway—hah, shite…"

Despite the aching in his shoulders, Ciel's stance on the floor was crumbling, knees wanting to give way. There was a warm tingling in his hands, the throbbing in his legs in time with the pulsing in his ears. He concentrated on this internal rhythm, how the sting compelled his heart to pump with urgency, how his limbs shivered yet the core of him was seared with agitated blood and his nerves fluttered with pain.

Sebastian moved the blows over his back, mindful to never linger in one space for any extended period. On occasion the thick flogger was thrown onto bitten flesh to lick at tiny welts. Despite the aching in his legs, the stinging in his shoulders, his breathing had slowed, and his eyes drooped. Ciel acknowledged the tightness of the rope bound around his extremities. The strikes of the whip still registered on his back, but the pain of it was sliding into a state of constancy. To his perception, the blows were no longer being received as pain, but rather as just another sensation.

He was ready to submit to such a state of existence, with no thought, no concern, no decisions to be had, no pressures and expectation. It was a condition of being where the whole of reality was comprised of sensations all blending to resonate within him. He was not Ciel Phantomhive, nor the Queen's Watchdog, or the infamous Evil Nobleman. He was not the fiancé of Elizabeth Midford, nephew or cousin or son of anyone. In that moment he was simply a boy existing in a space outside the normal constructs of reality, beyond such arbitrary system of time. This was where he needed to be, this was the role he was to play, and only Sebastian could bring him here.

"Boy… dessert." Sebastian's voice sounded rather far off.

"Yes… treacle."

CRACK. Sebastian swung braided tails with expert precision, causing Ciel to flinch with each lashing. The cat o' nines brought a needling pain to the skin, but after the impact Ciel relaxed to receive another blow. Sebastian knew that such a harsh device could only be implemented when his charge was prepared to encounter such a scourge and could be open and willing to relinquish himself.

This was the demon's true aim as he flicked his wrist to administer a current of strikes. He delighted to witness the tension beaten to oblivion, arms stretched under the weight of relaxation, knees softening and his face serene with simple acceptance.

Ciel concentrated on the sound of his own breath, how Sebastian had slowed to a predictable rhythm that could be followed. SNAP. Inhale. SNAP. Exhale. His ears buzzed, his nerves were on fire. He felt scorched with pain and in that small moment he could acknowledge that it was the phenomenon of feeling something that drove him to this end.

Ciel was aware of what Sebastian received from all this. Ciel couldn't condemn his demon for finding pleasure and beauty in such a thing, not when he himself was the one to seek such pain. Outside of their secret dungeon this very fact caused Ciel no end of shame, but in this moment he could accept the simple truth of it and receive what he needed.

"Sebastian…"

Sebastian paused at being addressed by his name, bestowed to him by his master. "Yes… my lord?"

"I'm so close."

Sebastian set down his whip to place a palm on that abused rear, and Ciel gave a strangled cry. "Yes… yes…" Movements were tender, but to Ciel it could have been as hot iron on his skin. He released the restraints on the boy's ankles. Sebastian opened his shirt to press his chest against that scalding back. A single pull released the rope that tied his wrists and Ciel collapsed against him. He yelped to feel soft touch against the blushed head, Sebastian's lips on his sweaty temple.

There was such a roar in his ears as he felt the fevered blood course into freed limbs. His anatomy felt devoid of all structure as his very bones would not hold him. Sebastian held him instead, backing into the couch on the far corner, cradled in grasping hands. He spilled coaxing words into his ear, sweet supplications that had the boy panting, bucking into Sebastian's fist.

Ciel had no words to say to such whispers chanted over him. The only responses were a grunt jerked from deep in his belly, followed by gasping, howling mewls as he was brought to final release. Sebastian smothered himself under such trembling mass, partaking of such climactic scent. He sucked at spilled seed, raked his teeth over the back of a salted neck. Ciel twisted around to face him and the demon gazed into mismatched eyes that began to shed tears.

Such was the purpose of why Ciel would call for such a service. As Sebastian kissed the tears away from the boy's cheeks, he was reminded of why he never minded delivering it. For him, Ciel's outpouring was delivered as a reminder of the infernal covenant not bound by ropes or behind locked doors. The bitterness that sang across Sebastian's tongue was the promise that one day he should receive full payment. For the time being, Sebastian gave comfort and warmth to the boy curled in his arms, knowing that in due course he would uncover the full mystery of Ciel Phantomhive's tribulation.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: This fic was written by request for Countess Winter over at black butler dot net, in a thread titled "Kuroshitsuji Kink Meme." I typically don't do fic requests because I'm of the belief that people should be writing the things they want to read. That's where good stories come from. But, I happened to have a Sebaciel BDSM oneshot on the back burner for quite a long time because I think I told my fans of <em>A Magnificent Depravity <em>that I would write one for some reason... I can't remember. If you're here because you're a fan of that monster of a fic, hello! I love you.

I sat on a draft for this story for quite a long time because it I had difficulty determining what I needed this fic to be. Intention is everything when it comes to writing, and it took me a while to realize that for the purposes of this fic, I needed the intention to be about what both of these characters needed when it came to role reversal and power exchange. When I first sat down to write this fic (ages ago) it had a very sexual component and I think that was the reason I couldn't finish it. Sure, there's sexual tension (and content) in this, but it's not so much about that, as it is about emotional catharsis. Also, I didn't need Sebastian to find any sexual gratification in this, but rather I needed to keep in staunchly in character by being mindful of his "demonic aesthetic."

Also, on a personal note, I have experience with these sorts of activities, but perhaps not in a way people would expect. It isn't very sexual for me, and I wouldn't try to make it sexual because that's not what I need it for. Ciel's motivations in this fic reflect some of my own sentiments, in that first and foremost it is to necessitate a release, to strip away that what binds us, and to free pent up negative emotions. The scourge that "purifies," as it were.

So if you're wondering why I tagged this as "spiritual," that would be why.


End file.
